Issues
by macisgate
Summary: J.D. thinks he’s finally got life all figured out, but Dr. Cox shows him otherwise. JDA. JDCox friendship. Warning: contains nongraphic mentions of domestic violence.


Issues

Rated: PG-PG13

Season: I don't know. Early on though.

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs. So sad.

Summary: "Everyone has issues, J.D. This one is yours. That doesn't mean you'll never make a good doctor. It just means this is your issue to work on, and you wouldn't have known it was an issue until today." J.D. thinks he's finally got life all figured out. Dr. Cox shows him otherwise. JDA. J.D. friendship.

A/N: Hey everybody! This is my very first Scrubs story. I usually write for Stargate. Sorry if I don't have the characters down pat, but hopefully I didn't do too bad. Thanks so much for reading!

Christine

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Okay, so you know those days when you feel like you've got life all figured out? You've got your ducks in a row – a nice, straight, perfectly aligned, single-file row. You've got friends who care about you, a girlfriend who likes you the same time you like her, a boss who still calls you girl names but despite that sarcastic exterior is actually starting to respect you... maybe. Well, maybe not. But anyway. Today is my day. I'm a super hero. Nothing can hurt me. I'm on top of the world. Ducks in a row. Marching smartly. I can hear the drums sounding now. Ta-da-dum. Ta-da-dum. Ta-da-dum-dum-_Oomph!_ Oops.

"Shirley, get your _knickers_ out of their knot, and watch where you're going." I try to smooth down the front of Dr. Cox's lab coat where I ran into him. He just glares at me until I stop. I'm feeling a little awkward now. I clear my throat and wait for him to say something.

"Priscilla, listen to me very, very carefully. This," he waves his hands between us using his I'm-talking-to-a-two-year-old-that-I-hate voice, "is a no-touch zone. Get that? No touchie. No-ho-hooo touchie. Now take this chart here and go check on your new patient. Go on. Shoo!" Dr. Cox motions me away with his hands.

Phew! That could have been a lot worse. My Dr. Cox duck is a little feather-ruffled but otherwise okay. We continue our march. Where were we? Oh yes… Ta-da-dum. Ta-da-dum. Ta-da-

"Hey Carla." I love the nurses' station. They're all so pretty.

"Hey Bambi. Oh, don't you look nice today. Are those new scrubs?"

She noticed! "Why yes. Yes they are."

She winks at me as I walk away. I like Carla.

Carla duck is very pretty. So is my Girlfriend Elliot duck. I wonder what she'll think of my new scrubs. Hmm.

And we're marching. Ta-da-dum. Ta-da… Okay, so you get the idea.

I do a quick check of my other patients first. They're such good little duckies. All healthy and mending. I can't help humming a little.

I pass Dr. Kelso in the hallway.

"Keep up the good work, Sport," he says with a smile and a wave.

"Thank you, Dr. Kelso," I give a small wave in return. Yup. This is a really, really good day.

Little did I know it was all about to come to an immediate, slamming, bone-crunching halt.

I walk into my new patient's room with a grin and a joke that I've been practicing. Except I never do get to use it because as soon as I walk into that room, the ducks freeze up, and so do I.

Then the ducks bolt in a flurry of feathers, leaving one little duckling still frozen on the spot. One little duckling all alone.

_No._

_Come on, J.D. Think of something_, I tell myself. _Anything_.

"Um… ah…I-" I wish I could breathe. I really, really do. "I'm just going to, uh-" I point to the door I just came through, but as I try unsuccessfully to get my shaking legs to freakin' move, Dr. Cox breezes in like the super hero I aspire to be – all calm and collected. How does he do that?

He's standing in front of me now. He looks very scary, and if my body could get any more tense, I'm sure it would. I'm in a lot of pain right now as it is.

"You-hoooo! Shirley!" Dr. Cox snaps his fingers in my face. "Good God, Newbie. Are you going to stand there all day dreaming about that pretty dress you've been just dying to buy for like, you know, forever, or are you actually going to wake up and remember you're a – and I shudder to say this – doctor? Now snap out of whatever girly daze you've gotten yourself into and get over here."

He walks over to the bed with the friendly smile that he saves only for patients. "Hey, Johnny. I'm going to check out the marks on your back while Newbie here signs your cast, okay?"

"Is his name really Shirley?" the kid asks. He can't be more than seven. He looks so _little_.

"Sure is," Dr. Cox says with an evil, _evil_ laugh.

Thanks to his oh-so-Dr.-Cox-ish tirade, I come-to just enough to drag my feet over to the bed, albeit slowly. I reach for the sharpie the kid holds out to me. I'm surprised I actually get a grip on it because my hands are getting really sweaty. I even manage to get the top off. I gently take the kid's arm in my other hand. But that's as far as I get. _Come on, J.D. Just get a grip. All you have to do is write your name and put a smiley face. Hell, you can even skip the smiley face. Just do it!_ But I can't. My hand is shaking too hard. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here at all. I just want to get out. I _need_ to get out.

I'm breathing again, but it's actually worse than not breathing because my throat's making weird noises. _Oh God, this cannot be happening._

The sharpie is taken away from me and two large hands rest on my shoulders. It takes a minute for my eyes to focus, but then I see Dr. Cox right in front of me. He's looking at me funny, so I look away.

"Oh no you don't, Nancy. Look at me… Look at me." I finally manage to do what he asks. "Deep breath in. And out. In. Out. That's it."

Crap. My eyes are watering. This is so not cool. Not in front of Dr. Cox.

"Pay very careful attention to me, Newbie." He takes one hand off my shoulder and gestures to the door. He's still using his talking-to-a-two-year-old voice. Without the anger, but still very firm. "I want you to walk out that door, and go to the break room, and I don't want you to move from that break room until I tell you so. Understand?"

I manage a nod. He gives me a nudge to the door which, although I know is only a few feet from where I'm standing, looks like it's miles away. I put one foot in front of the other for what feels like eternity until I'm finally there.

"I thought you said his name was Shirley," I hear the kid say just before the door clicks shut behind me.

That's the last thing I hear as I complete my walk of shame to the break room. I'm sure people were speaking to me as I walk by, but all the noise that fills my ears is a dull roar.

I was supposed to be having a good day today. This shouldn't be happening. But I guess a part of me is wondering how it hasn't happened before today.

The break room is unusually empty. I sit down on a couch and put my head in my hands. I try to keep breathing just like Dr. Cox told me to. I expect him to come in here any minute and yell my head off. It won't be pleasant, but at least it will be over soon, and then I can get through the rest of this horrible day.

I hear the door open and shut quietly. No slam? Definitely not Dr. Cox. I'm not going to move, and hopefully, whoever it is will think I'm just tired and cranky and leave me a lone. I can hear whoever-it-is making coffee. Lots of cream. Lots of sugar.

It feels like the blood is going to pound right out of my body. I think I need to lay down. Or throw up. Maybe both.

Whoever-it-is sits down on the coffee table in front of me. Okay, so maybe it is Dr. Cox.

"Newbie, look at me."

I do, but it takes effort. He hands the coffee to me.

"I want you to drink this down quick. All of it."

My hands are still shaking, but I manage to do what he says. I might have to join Turk's diabetes support group with all the sugar he put in it. But it helps. When I'm done, he takes the cup from my hands and sets it on the table beside him. Then he feels my forehead and checks my pulse which I know is racing though it's a little slower than it was before. He puts his arms on his knees and laces his fingers, matching the way I'm sitting.

"Care to explain what just happened in there?"

"Not particularly, no." Maybe he'll just drop it. Or not.

"Okay, let me rephrase that. You _will _explain what just happened in there. _Now_."

I just shake my head and put my face back in my hands. I hear Dr. Cox sigh.

"J.D., this may be the first time you've seen a domestic abuse case as a doctor, but I guarantee you, it will not be your last. Whatever demons you're dealing with, you've got to figure out a way to deal with them so you don't freeze up every time you walk into a room unprepared."

I take another deep breath. "He looks just like I did when I was his age. Same hair, same eyes. Same _name_. Even broke the same damn arm. You knew, didn't you?" That is a statement right there, not a question. Just in case you were wondering.

"Yes. I did. Well, not the specifics, but I figured it out. Though I wasn't sure until today. Look, J.D., I didn't give you that patient just for kicks. Believe it or not, I'm not that cruel. But I needed to know where you stood. I needed to know how you'd react. Everyone has issues, J.D. This one is yours. That doesn't mean you'll never make a good doctor. It just means this is your issue to work on, and you wouldn't have known it was an issue until today."

I know he's right. I know it. I just wish I'd realized this all on my own before it came to this. This is not a fun lesson to learn.

I look up at him again. "How do I fix it?" I ask.

"You _don't _fix it. But you do learn to deal with it. Some people use humor. Some people just don't let themselves feel anything at the time and then let it out later. Personally, I'm in favor of the former. You'll figure it out, Newbie."

He gets up to go, but I have to ask him something before he does.

"_How_ did you know?"

He sighs again and rubs his hand through his hair. "I don't know. I guess it was just a bunch of things that alone wouldn't have meant much, but put them together, and… You act like it's your responsibility to keep everyone happy all the time. You get really uncomfortable and look like you want to escape when you see people fighting. You flinch when someone waves a hand too close to your face. You jump at loud noises-"

"Okay, okay, I get the idea." Geesh. He didn't need to get that specific.

"One more: You feel other people's pain as though it were your own. That sets you apart from the other residents, and you'll be a better doctor than them because of it."

"Really?" I like it when he uses his I'm-talking-to-a-peer voice.

"Yes, _Sally_, really." Oops. Spoke too soon. "Now would you please fix your hair and makeup and get back to work?!"

Okay, so maybe I actually like his I'm-talking-to-a-two-year-old-that-I-hate voice. It means he's still treating me the same as he did before, and that makes me respect him even more. I wonder if he knows that he's a father-figure to me.

I join Dr. Cox at the door, and he puts a hand on my shoulder just for a moment as we walk out. Yeah. I guess maybe he does.

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The End

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End file.
